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<title>A Quantity Of Matches by Katherine</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872354">A Quantity Of Matches</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/pseuds/Katherine'>Katherine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Impregnated Goblin Safety Match label</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bulletproof Treat, Goblins, M/M, Mpreg, Mpregnant and on the run</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:48:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>330</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28872354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/pseuds/Katherine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"We should take the carriage," he said. It would not be especially comfortable—a vehicle with a roof would have been better—but it was what they had, and there would be room for both of them on the wide boxes that usually held the bundled matches.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Bulletproof 20/21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Quantity Of Matches</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforgotten/gifts">Unforgotten</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Canon is Impregnated Goblin Safety Match label, on Twitter under<br/><a href="https://twitter.com/jonoganz/status/1331529161756864513?s=19">"What should we call our matches?"
"I dunno, something normal"</a></p><p>Matchbox label from 1900 or thereabouts according to <a href="https://www.ebay.com/itm/THE-IMPREGNATED-GOBLIN-MATCHES-MATCH-BOX-LABEL-c1900-NORMAL-SIZE-RARE-SWEDEN-/292505390768">ebay listing from 2018</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"We should take the carriage," he said. It would not be especially comfortable—a vehicle with a roof would have been better—but it was what they had, and there would be room for both of them on the wide boxes that usually held the bundled matches.</p><p>He had stopped the carriage so that the matched black horses would screen his husband from the sight of passers-by. Goblins driving on a different route would be far less noticeable than riding, if any in the mostly-human city even registered their passing by. He didn't want to jounce the coming child as much as horse-back would, and besides, the horses were trained and harnessed to pull.</p><p>His husband whispered, one ungloved hand spread wide on his belly; the curve was not visible, not under the traditional red woollen tunic, but they both knew. The nearer horse tipped his ear back, paying an animal's vague attention to hissed words. The other incuriously took the chance for a rest, raising one back hoof from the road.</p><p>Fidgeting with the whip-handle, he let these last whispered details of their plan sink in. So soon, they would be on their way.</p><p>-</p><p>Hours later, the city was finally well at their backs. They were able to turn off the road to a worse-maintained but quieter path.</p><p>He kept a weather eye on the horses, watching to be sure that neither drank too quickly at the stream. Satisfied at their pace, he wiggled a match from one of the boxes on the carriage, and dropped it down into the water, to whirl away downstream out of sight. A manufactured omen, but he would call it a good one.</p><p>The horses snatched some grazing, finding the few patches of green grass, while the goblins took the chance to briefly rest. Leaning against the carriage, his husband gave him half a smile, strained but genuine. They were on the run, leaving everything behind for the chance to protect their future.</p>
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